


Secret Santa

by skimmingthesurface



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Brother fluff, Christmas, F/M, Gen, Poetic Bee - Freeform, Post OTGW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 20:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2886485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skimmingthesurface/pseuds/skimmingthesurface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wirt deserved to have a great Christmas, the best Secret Santa ever. Greg’s eyes lit up. That was it! He’d be the best Secret Santa for Wirt by helping Wirt be the best Secret Santa right back!</p><p>“Don’t worry, Wirt!” Greg proclaimed, grabbing Wirt by the sides of his head and forced him to look up at him. “I’ve got the perfect plan!” </p><p>In which secrets are both kept and not kept and Christmas continues as usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Santa

 

  


“You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout, I’m telling you why…” Taking a deep breath, Greg mimed playing a saxophone as he bounced on the balls of his feet, then burst out, “Santa Claus is comin’ to town! Santa Claus is comin’ to town! Santa Claus is comin’ to-o to-own!”

While he watched the other kids pile into their cars to head home for the weekend, Greg continued to play the air saxophone along to his Bruce Springsteen-inspired rendition of “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” in the school yard. He’d only just watched the animated special the night before, so that particular song and others had been stuck in his head for the better part of the day. Tonight they’d watch “The Year Without a Santa Claus,” one of his favorites. Or maybe he’d let Wirt choose. He _had_ picked the last six Christmas specials they’d watched, after all. It was only fair to let Wirt pick one.

Except Wirt’s favorite was “Jack Frost”… the Rankin Bass one. Greg didn’t especially like that one and, not for the first time, questioned his older brother’s taste in Christmas specials.

Speaking of his older brother, where was he? He was taking way too long! Greg rose to the tips of his toes, trying to see over the tops of the cars for any sign of the familiar, red-pointed hat. He huffed when he didn’t see his brother at all. He was late. Or invisible, but Greg was pretty sure Wirt didn’t have that superpower. Or if he did, it was extremely unfair that he hadn’t told him about it. Invisibility _would_ be the power that Wirt would have. Greg hummed thoughtfully, arms flapping at his sides as he looked to the sky. What kind of superpower would he have? Flying maybe? Or super speed?

Maybe he could ask Santa for a superpower for Christmas this year. Could Santa make powers? He’d have to ask Wirt. If his slow-as-molasses brother would hurry up! Didn’t he have any idea how important today – of all days – was?

He gasped as he spied the red hat poking up above the parked cars, his big brother crossing the parking lot with his usual brand of trepidation. It took all of Greg’s willpower – and knowing he’d give his brother a heart attack if he darted out into the parking lot while cars were still moving – to keep him rooted where he stood. He kept bouncing right up until Wirt was within arm’s reach, then he grabbed onto his wrist and tugged him back in the direction that he’d just come from.

“Whoa! Greg!” Wirt yelped, forced to trail after him.

“Come on, come on, _come on_ , Wirt!” he told him. “We need to hurry!”

“Yeah, well, we also need to not die today!” his older brother replied as they skirted the cars of the parking lot. “Sorry!” he called out when they cut off a particularly irate mother whose horn made sure they and everyone around them knew of her displeasure. “We’re sorry! _Greg_!”

“It’s not my fault you’re Slowpoke McGoat!” Greg retorted.

“What? That doesn’t even- what do goats have to do with-?”

Greg wasn’t sure what he’d planned to keep babbling about, and wouldn’t ever find out. One minute, he was running towards the sidewalk. The next? Well, his foot skid on an icy patch and his legs shot right up from under him. He would’ve made a rather ugly pancake falling flat on the ground, decked in his thickest, green coat and matching hat, and green just wasn’t a color found in pancakes. Luckily, Wirt stumbled forward as he went sliding back.

“Whoa!” Wirt gasped, just barely catching Greg under his arms on his way down.

“Nice catch,” he told him, giving him a thumbs up as if nearly cracking his head on the pavement hadn’t just occurred.

Wirt let out a heavy breath, his sudden panic fading slowly from his eyes as he steadied him. “More like lucky catch. How about we, you know, play it safe and _try_ not to risk life and limb while walking down the sidewalk?”

“Aw c’mon, Wirt. Where’s your Christmas spirit?” Greg pumped his arms back and forth, flashing one of his most festive smiles.

“I don’t see how my not wanting to explain to Mom that I had to scrape you off the sidewalk equates to me not having Christmas spirit.”

“That’s because you’re not looking at the big picture, Wirt,” he explained. “We’ve got an important, Christmas meeting to get to, which we can do way faster by running.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of the big picture, Greg.” Wirt shook his head, but he was smiling, so Greg counted it as a win.

“You don’t understand, Wirt. This is my first ever Secret Santa ever. I think that counts as a big picture,” he replied.

“I know, Greg,” Wirt sighed, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets as he started walking. “You’ve been talking about it nonstop for the past three days. You’ve announced it to everyone in every way possible aside from shouting it from the rooftops.”

“Hey! That’s a good idea!”

“No, it’s really not. We’ll leave the climbing on roofs to your dad and to Santa Claus.”

Greg thought about pouting, but since it was pretty close to Christmas and Santa was probably already checking his list twice he decided against it. “You’re no fun,” he complained instead. The song didn’t say anything about complaining being a one-way ticket to the naughty list.

“That’s my job, didn’t you know that? I’m supposed to make sure you never have any fun.” Wirt played along.

Greg stooped down and packed a snowball to throw at Wirt’s face, but his aim was a little off and Wirt was able to dodge it. He kicked some snow at him in return, making Greg dart away and around him in a circle. When he came back around, he squeezed his arm through the nonexistent space between Wirt’s and his side, having to stand on his tiptoes to link them. Wirt rolled his eyes, then removed his hand from his pocket so Greg could hold onto him and walk easier as he led the way towards downtown.

Of course, their downtown wasn’t actually much of a downtown, but Greg hadn’t seen very many downtowns in his short life and he couldn’t complain about the one they had. As far as he was concerned, it had all the amenities. He let go of Wirt and ran on ahead when he spied the café on the corner. “Spill the Beans” was a little different from the other coffee shops around town because it had a built-in library full of old books where you could read and have coffee or hot chocolate or whatever you wanted at the same time! Greg knew that Wirt was especially fond of the old-fashioned aesthetic, but he’d only recently started going there.

The reasons were currently sitting around a small table with seven chairs squished around it, five of them occupied. Greg’s breath fogged up the window as he looked inside, so he had to wipe it away with his mittened hand in order to continue gathering evidence. The gang was all there. Sara was sitting in between two of the empty chairs, saving them both no doubt, as she laughed at something Isabelle said. Trevor, Taylor, and Jason Funderberker were also there, everyone sitting with their respective drinks. Oh, they looked warm. Except for Jason Funderberker. For some reason he had a strawberry smoothie in front of him.

Greg lingered outside of the café, peering in through the window until Wirt shuffled up behind him. He heard his brother make a small, distressed sound under his breath. Greg looked up at him. His face was a bit pale and his eyes were wide and lined with something a little like fear. Uh oh. He slid his backpack off one arm and dug around inside of it.

“Maybe- maybe we should just go, Greg…” Wirt started babbling. “I mean, it’s not like they haven’t done Secret Santa before. Without us. Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure they’d rather do this without us. Let’s just go-”

“No way, Wirt. We’ve worked too hard for this,” Greg replied, finally finding what he was looking for. Sticker sheet. “Besides, they’re your friends! Of course they want you to do Secret Santa with them! And me, too!”

“But,” Wirt started, his panicked gaze settling on him. “But I don’t know how it works. I don’t know the first thing about Secret Santa. What if they expect me to know what I’m doing? I don’t- I don’t even how to act around them!”

Greg peeled a sticker from his trusty sticker sheet, then slapped it right on Wirt’s coat over his heart. “Just bee yourself!” he pointed to the honeybee sticker that now complemented his brother’s ensemble.

Wirt blinked at him, the color returning to his cheeks as he glanced down at the sticker. Greg placed his hands on his hips as he surveyed his work, then nodded and puffed out his chest. He timed that perfectly, and Wirt was already less tense than he’d been.

“That’s easier said than done, Greg,” he replied, still grumpy, but grumpy was better than freaking out in Greg’s opinion.

“Yeah, well, I think you can do it.” Greg shrugged, putting away the rest of his stickers, then hiked his backpack further up on his shoulders. “If you can beat The Beast, then you can do anything, Wirt. Besides,” he pointed to the window, “we kinda have to now. They’ve seen us and will probably think it’s weird if we just leave without even buying a white hot chocolate.”

“What?” Wirt’s head swiveled up to stare through the window. “Oh, jeez. No. No, don’t point at me, Jason Funderberker… ugh.”

Greg watched as Jason Funderberker did indeed point Wirt out to the others on the other side of the glass. They all turned and waved. Greg waved back, because it was only polite, while Wirt fidgeted under the attention, then headed for the café door.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay, we can do this.”

“Yeah!” Greg cheered, dashing inside as soon as Wirt opened the door for them.

It was much warmer in the café, almost too warm. His cheeks stung with the combination of hot and cold, so Greg immediately shucked off his scarf and mittens, shoving them into his hat. Wirt followed suit, but left his hat on.

“Hey, Wirt!”

The entire group greeted, beckoning him over, and Greg, too. “Hey, guys,” Wirt croaked out, then cleared his throat. “Hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

“Nah, Isabelle and Sara just got here,” Trevor replied. “You want to get something to drink before we start?”

Greg gasped, his face lighting up as he turned to pin Wirt with his most hopeful look. Though he sighed and his shoulders sagged, Greg knew he’d already given in.

“Yeah. Give us just a second, guys. C’mon, Greg.” Wirt led the way to the counter. “White hot chocolate?”

“Yeah!”

“With whipped cream and marshmallows?”

“Yeah!”

Wirt snorted and shook his head, but ordered two cups of the sugary concoction nonetheless. Greg grinned. He knew Wirt liked the white hot chocolate here just as much as he did, even if he pretended not to. When his older brother got out his wallet to pay, Greg gasped and poked him in the side repetitively until he was looking at him.

“I want to pay for mine!” he told him.

Wirt frowned. “But you don’t have any money, Greg.”

“Can I borrow some?” he asked.

“That’s the same thing as me paying for them both.”

“No it’s not. I could borrow money from you and not pay for my own drink,” Greg said matter-of-factly.

Wirt rolled his eyes, but shrugged and handed Greg three dollars. “Fine.”

“Thanks, Wirt!” Greg looked to the barista at the counter. “How much is the white hot chocolate?”

“Two-fifty,” she told him.

“One, two,” Greg counted out the bills, placing them back in Wirt’s palm. “Oh. I don’t have two-fifty, but I’ve got three dollars! Keep the change! Merry Christmas!”

Wirt shook his head with a small smile while the barista rang them up. “Merry Christmas to you, too. Have a good day.”

“Thanks,” Wirt replied, folding the receipt up to tuck into his wallet, then followed Greg over to the napkin dispenser while they waited for their drinks.

“Can we make white hot chocolate a Christmas tradition?” Greg asked while he pulled twelve napkins one at a time from the dispenser.

“Sure, Greg. That wouldn’t be a bad tradition to have actually,” he answered, scanning the café.

He seemed way more relaxed now that they were inside, Greg noticed. Even when he looked over at his friends he didn’t seem so nervous about it. He even looked a little happy. Happy for Wirt anyway. Their order was placed on the counter and his older brother grabbed both cups since Greg was too short to reach his. He took the cup from him eagerly, the cardboard container warming his fingers as they headed back to the table.

“Hi, Wirt,” Sara greeted with a grin as they approached the two empty seats. “Hi, Greg.”

“Hi, Sara!” Greg chirped, pushing his white hot chocolate across the table before crawling under it to snag the seat in the middle.

That way Wirt could sit on the end and next to Sara. He knew Wirt preferred the end to being squished in the middle and Greg didn’t mind getting squished. It was like a hug. A table hug.

Wirt fidgeted where he stood, hesitating for a minute as he stared at the empty space in front of Sara. “Did you want to get anything?” he asked her with a squeak.

She smiled and shook her head. “Nah. I think I’ll grab something on the way out so it will be warm for the walk home.” She eyed the cup in Wirt’s hand. “What’ve you got?”

“Oh, um, white hot chocolate,” he murmured, sliding in beside her.

“I haven’t had that before, is it any good?” she asked.

“Yeah, it is. Kinda sweet, but…” Wirt shrugged, then lifted an eyebrow. “You really haven’t tried it before?”

Sara tucked her hair behind her ear and shook her head. “I’ve always just kinda played it safe and went with regular hot chocolate. Mind if I have a sip?”

“Y-yeah. I mean, no. I mean- uh, go ahead.” Wirt’s cheeks turned as red as his cone hat as he nudged the cup to her.

Ever since Wirt had Sara over to listen to his tape – which was only a few days ago, actually – they’d started doing weird things like sharing each other’s drinks whenever they went out or trying each other’s food. Not that Greg didn’t do that with Wirt’s food, but it was different because they were brothers. He’d asked Wirt if it was because he and Sara were boyfriend and girlfriend now, but that only made his big brother stammer and flail around like he had a bug in his shirt before finally settling down to tell him that they didn’t really like labels and hadn’t really decided what they were yet.

Greg was pretty sure they were boyfriend and girlfriend now though, even if they hadn’t kissed yet. He’d seen them hold hands, and Sara looked at Wirt like he was something special to see. Which he was, and that was a rock fact.

Sara blew at the hot chocolate, then took a small sip. “Oh, wow. That is sweet.”

“Is it bad?” Wirt’s shoulders hunched up, his gaze darting between the cup and Sara.

She wiped her lips on her NASA jacket sleeve, shaking her head as she handed it back to Wirt. “No, it’s good. Just really sweet. I can see why you and Greg like it so much.”

Wirt blushed again while Greg preened, pleased to be initiated into the conversation. “It’s a Christmas tradition!” he told her. “We’ve never done it before, but we decided that it will be our new tradition. Right, Wirt?”

“Yeah.” Wirt took a large gulp of his hot chocolate to hide his embarrassment, but only succeeded in burning his tongue.

The rest of the group had settled down, quieting right as Wirt hissed and fanned his mouth, only to laugh at his antics. “Oh, Wirt,” Isabelle giggled. “Be careful.”

“Do you want some of my smoothie?” Jason Funderberker offered. Even though Greg could appreciate the occasional smoothie, he still didn’t think it was very Christmasy. Or wintery for that matter.

Wirt shook his head, pressing his lips together tightly as he sank in his seat. “I- I’m good, guys.”

“Well then what are we waiting for?” Taylor asked, looking around the table as she pulled out slips of folded paper from her pocket. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

“Is it time?” Greg asked, standing up on the seat of his chair so he could get a good look at what Taylor was holding. “Is it time for Secret Santa now?”

“Yeah, Greg, it’s time,” Sara chuckled, then turned to Wirt. “But we’re going to need something to put the names in.”

“Wirt’s hat!” Greg volunteered. “It came from a Santa hat. It’s perfect!”

The other five teenagers agreed, looking to Wirt expectantly. He cleared his throat and carefully removed his cone hat. His hair stuck up in a sharp point on top of his head. He tried to smooth it down while he handed the hat over to Taylor. Greg bounced excitedly as she dumped the paper scraps into the hat. She shook it up a bit, all eyes on her.

“Alright. Let the official Secret Santa extravaganza begin! Who wants to go first?”

Greg’s hand shot up, but so did everyone else’s except for Wirt. His big brother seemed content to watch everyone else vie for the honor of going first. Well, that just wouldn’t do! It was Wirt’s first ever Secret Santa and it needed to be special. When Taylor handed Greg the hat, saying youngest could go first, he immediately passed it to Wirt.

“I want Wirt to go first,” he explained when his big brother just stared at him. “It’s your first ever Secret Santa!”

“Really?” Isabelle inquired, tilting her head. “Oh, then yeah! You should go first, Wirt!”

“Wirt, Wirt, Wirt,” Trevor started chanting, nudging Jason Funderberker with his elbow to get him to join in as well. Jason Funderberker didn’t, but Greg and Sara joined happily.

Glancing around the coffee shop nervously, Wirt snatched up the hat before they could attract any strange looks. “Okay, okay. I’ll go first.” He shoved his hand in, tongue poking out as he felt around the slips of paper. “Okay.” He pulled out a small slip and kept it folded up. “Do I- uh… do I look at it now or wait until everyone’s picked?”

“You can look now if you want,” Sara replied, taking the hat from him so she could go next. “Or you can wait, it’s up to you. You just have to keep it a secret.”

“Yeah! Because it’s Secret Santa!” Greg chirped, grabbing his slip of paper next.

He almost forgot to pass the hat along to Isabelle, buzzing with eager energy as he clutched the piece of paper tightly. His first ever Secret Santa. Oh, he was so glad Wirt and his friends were letting him play it with them! It was going to be the best Christmas ever, he just knew it.

Greg didn’t wait for the others to pick theirs. He unfolded it right away, lighting up at the familiar name printed on the paper scrap. _Wirt._ Oh, he’d gotten Wirt! This was gonna be great! Greg flashed a bright smile in his brother’s direction. He was reading his own piece of paper with a secretive sort of smile. Good, clearly Wirt was pleased with his Secret Santa, too. He must’ve felt Greg looking at him, because he glanced up and offered him a smile meant just for him.

“Okay, so rules are don’t spend over twenty dollars on your gift. _Funderberker_.” Trevor smirked, pocketing his piece of paper. “Try to adhere to the cap this year, okay? Rule number two, don’t tell anyone who you’re being Secret Santa for. Take this secret to the grave. Rule three, umm… what else should we make sure of?”

Isabelle raised her hand. “Hold onto your gift until Funderberker’s party on the twenty-third. We’ll all exchange them then. So we’ve got about two weeks to find each other the perfect gifts.”

“I don’t need two weeks,” Greg boasted, hands on his hips. “I know exactly what to do!”

“No one likes a showoff, Greg,” Wirt pointed out, smiling a little as the group laughed and agreed with both of them. “So, what kinds of gifts do you guys usually give each other?”

“Something small,” Trevor answered, “Or something like candy.”

“Something that has to do with their personality or interests,” Taylor piped up.

“Something cute or funny,” Isabelle replied.

“Something special,” Funderberker added. “That will mean a lot to them.”

“What they said.” Sara shrugged. “It can be whatever you want it to be. There’s no pressure.”

“Yeah,” the teens around the table agreed.

Greg took all of their answers to heart, humming as he tapped his chin. Whatever he wanted it to be, huh? That was a lot of power. He could tell Wirt thought the same thing, his brother staring hard at the piece of paper in his hand. Greg crunched his up and stuffed it in his pocket for safe-keeping.

The seven of them hung out for a while longer before they decided to head out. Trevor and Isabelle lived in the opposite direction, so they bid the group farewell as they left the coffee shop. Once Sara got herself a white hot chocolate to go, the rest of them walked together.

“What did you guys get each other last year?” Greg asked, glancing between the three teens.

Jason Funderberker lit up. “I got Sara a pair of earrings and a matching bracelet,” he told him.

Sara laughed. “Yeah, but you spent too much on them! You went over the cap by, like, fifteen dollars or something.”

Funderberker shrugged and ducked his head. “It’s more of a guideline,” he croaked.

“Yeah, and you made the rest of us look bad,” Taylor added. “I still don’t think Trevor will ever forgive you.”

“It’s not my fault he’s cheap.”

Sara shook her head, then turned her attention back to Greg. “I got Isabelle last year, so I gave her some nail polish and lotion and stuff. She’s into that kind of thing.”

“I made cookies for Trevor,” Taylor joined in. “And Isabelle got Funderberker a hat and scarf and a pair of gloves. And Trevor got me my favorite candy.”

“Wow. So you really can do anything,” Greg awed. This was going to make choosing a present a lot harder. Especially since it was for Wirt.

He glanced over at his big brother, who’d remained silent throughout the conversation, but his head was ducked down, cone hat back atop it, as he stared at the snow covered sidewalk deep in thought. He must’ve been brainstorming ideas, too. This was a huge deal.

Once again the group split up until it was just Greg and Wirt shuffling through the snow towards home. Their hot chocolates had been finished a few blocks back and chucked into the nearest trash cans, leaving their hands free. Greg held his arms out, making whooshing noises as he skipped ahead of Wirt. He doubled back several times, before pausing his flight with a small screeching sound, then looked up at Wirt, who was still keeping to himself for the most part.

Greg frowned. This wasn’t like Wirt’s usual quiet. He was very distracted today, his eyes looking somewhere Greg couldn’t see.

“Hey, Wirt?” he piped up, frowning even more when Wirt simply hummed in response. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited for Secret Santa?”

“What?” He blinked, then blew out a long breath. “Oh, no. Yeah, I’m excited. I think. Maybe.”

“You don’t look very excited,” Greg pointed out.

Wirt shrugged, but didn’t say anything else. Instead he stared at the piece of paper that had the name of the person he needed to get a present for. Curious, Greg hopped up to try and see. This caught his brother’s attention. Wirt held it even higher out of his reach.

“Oh no you don’t,” he told him. “You’re not finding out that easily.”

“Aw, fiddlesticks.” Greg tried to snap his fingers, but it was hard to do with mittens on. “Come on, let me see. Maybe I could help you pick a present!”

Wirt lifted his brow, shoving his hands and the paper into his pockets. “Your idea of a present is a phone made out of tin cans and string.”

Greg shrugged. “Hey, you like old-fashioned things and Mom said you needed a new phone!”

Wirt shook his head, but couldn’t help a quiet laugh. “Yeah, well. If anyone needs help picking out something for their Secret Santa gift it’s you. You planning on borrowing money from me again, or are you going to ask Mom?”

Oh. Right, money. Greg hummed and played with the zipper of his coat as he thought about his options. Well, he didn’t really have any options. Like Wirt said, he was either going to have to borrow from him or their mom, and he couldn’t borrow Wirt’s own money to buy a present for Wirt! That would be like him buying his present for himself! But come to think of it, he kind of wanted to use his own money completely. He didn’t want to borrow from their mom either, especially since she was already buying his real Christmas present to Wirt.

“Um…” Greg furrowed his brow as he turned to answer Wirt, who was waiting patiently for his response. “I haven’t figured that part out yet,” he told him honestly. “But I know I want to do it by myself. This is my first Secret Santa, after all, Wirt! I’ve got to go big or go home.”

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s okay if you need help buying something, Greg. You’re six-”

“Almost seven!”

“-so no one’s expecting you to be able to get something on your own. I mean, your allowance is half of what mine is and you always spend it on quarters at the arcade in the pizza place,” Wirt pointed out. “So I don’t mind helping you out.”

Greg puffed out his chest and jabbed his thumb right in the middle of it. “I want to do it myself.”

Wirt shrugged. “Okay then. Fair enough.”

-0-

That Saturday morning found Greg on Mrs. Daniel’s doorstep, along with Jason Funderberker of course dressed in his winter finest. He had permission, too, from both of his parents. Wirt was still sleeping when he left, so he didn’t have permission from him necessarily, but that was okay. It was all part of the surprise.

Greg knocked politely on her front door, then smiled brightly when she opened it. “Oh, Gregory! What a surprise, what brings you here?”

“Hi, Ol- um, Mrs. Daniels,” he greeted. “I came over to see if you needed help with anything!”

“Why, as a matter of fact, I do,” she chuckled, stepping aside to let him in. “Let’s see what projects I’ve got lined up for today.

Greg and Jason Funderberker spent the morning shoveling snow from Mrs. Daniels’s driveway and the sidewalk in front of her house, then they helped her put up her Christmas lights by making sure all the strands were straight and untangled. While he scraped the ice off her windshield of her car with a credit card, she brought out a chocolate chip cookie and a cup of cocoa.

“For being such a good helper,” she told him. “Now, come inside for a bit and you can pick out whatever candy you like for all your hard work.”

“Actually, Mrs. Daniels, I don’t want any candy,” he replied. “You see, I’m doing a Secret Santa this year and it’s my first one ever and I really want to be able to buy the present on my own, but I don’t get a lot of money for my allowance, so I thought since nothing in this world is free, I could do some things for you and you could, maybe, give me some money instead of candy. Please?”

Mrs. Daniels blinked, then chuckled warmly. “Ah. You’re growing up so fast. I understand, Gregory. Candy sometimes just doesn’t cut it. Well, if you’re willing to help me with one more thing, then I don’t see why you don’t deserve to be paid. You’ve more than earned it.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Daniels!” Greg lit up and took a big bite of his cookie as he followed her inside.

She got out her purse and dug around in it for her wallet. “So, how much are you expected to spend on this Secret Santa?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to spend more than twenty dollars, so I was thinking maybe five dollars? Or ten.” Greg shrugged. “I got Wirt so I want to make sure I get him something really good. It’s his first Secret Santa, too!”

“Oh, well in that case.” She pulled out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to him.

Greg felt his jaw drop and his eyes pop open wide. A whole twenty dollars? He stared at it uncomprehendingly, then looked up at Mrs. Daniels and slowly shook his head.

“I can’t take twenty whole dollars, Mrs. Daniels. Not for shoveling snow and putting up lights,” he protested.

“Nonsense, Gregory. You deserve every penny of this.” She took his hand and closed it around the bill. “Especially since it’s for such a good cause. It’s your first Secret Santa, after all.”

Greg clutched it tightly and nodded, determination shining on his face. “Thank you, Mrs. Daniels. What’s the last thing you wanted me to do?”

Mrs. Daniels smiled and went into the kitchen to bring out a casserole dish to him. “Make sure my famous tuna noodle surprise gets to your mom safe and sound so your whole family can enjoy it. Think you can manage that?”

“Yes sir, young man!” He saluted, then tucked the money in his pocket before taking the dish from her. “Thanks again, Mrs. Daniels! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Gregory!” She saw him and Jason Funderberker to the door, then waved goodbye.

He would’ve waved back, but his hands were full of his important last task. Greg grinned at Jason Funderberker, the frog appearing pleased as well. Waking up early to do chores in the snow was totally worth it. Now he had more than enough to get Wirt the best Secret Santa present ever.

Except he still had to figure out what that was exactly. When he said he wouldn’t need a week to figure out what he wanted to get for Wirt, he kinda hadn’t been completely, one hundred percent honest. His brother was a tricky person to get presents for. He liked architecture, but he already had a ton of books on that stuff. He liked music, but he made his own mix tapes most of the time and Greg had no idea what kind of music he liked aside from the music he already had. He liked his clarinet, but he already had a clarinet.

Greg’s brow furrowed as he checked off more of Wirt’s interests in his mind. He liked poetry, but Greg didn’t know what was considered to be good poetry and what was bad poetry. Sometimes when Wirt read him poems, he’d wrinkle his nose and complain about the form or the rhyme scheme or the theme, but Greg didn’t notice anything different about the ones he liked and the ones he complained about.

“Wirt’s a pretty complex guy, huh Jason Funderberker,” he mused aloud to their frog. “There’s gotta be something I can get him that’s special enough for Secret Santa. And small, and fits his personality, and is cute or funny… oh, that’s a lot of different things!”

Jason Funderberker croaked in understanding.

Greg nodded. “You’re right, Jason Funderberker. We can’t worry too much about it. Let’s go see if Wirt will take us shopping and watch him like hawks and see if there’s anything that looks like he’d like! Great plan, oh frog o’ mine. Let’s go tell Wirt!”

-0-

Shopping ended up having to wait since Wirt was still sleeping when Greg got back. Or, at least their mom said he was still sleeping. He hadn’t come out of his room yet, but that didn’t mean he was necessarily asleep. Sometimes Wirt stayed in his room for a really long time until he got hungry or needed to use the bathroom, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Not since before Halloween.

“I can take you shopping if you want,” their mom offered, but Greg could be patient.

He and Jason Funderberker camped out on the couch to watch “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” while they waited. It was the fiftieth anniversary, or so the commercials said, so it was on all the time, but Greg hadn’t sat down to watch the whole thing from start to finish this year yet. His mom watched with him for some of it while she folded laundry, laughing about how she used to have to hide the VHS tapes she had of it from Wirt when he was younger because he’d want to watch them all year round. Greg didn’t see a problem with that, but he supposed watching Rudolph in summer just wasn’t the same as watching him in December. Well, they had “Rudolph and Frosty’s Christmas in July” for that. Maybe he and Wirt could watch that over the summer.

In the middle of Hermey and Rudolph’s duet, Wirt came shuffling out of his room, sleepy-eyed and hair all mussed up. He blinked tiredly at the screen for a moment, then yawned and continued into the kitchen. Greg waited until the commercial before hopping up to trail after him.

“Good afternoon!” he greeted.

“Mm.” Wirt had the tea kettle on the stove – a different one than the one he’d worn as his Halloween costume – and a glass of orange juice in hand as he waited.

“Can we go shopping today?” Greg asked, cutting right to the chase.

It took a moment for Wirt to realize he’d asked him a question. “Shopping? Um… I don’t know.” He scratched at his head, messing up his hair even more. “Maybe. Let me have some lunch first, Greg.”

“Roger that, sir!” Greg saluted him, then hurried back to the living room just in time for the show to come back on. “Oh, and can I have a peanut butter and honey sandwich? Thanks!” he called out as he sat back down.

Their mom shook her head. “Greg, I can make you your lunch.”

“Yeah, but Wirt’s already in there.” Greg’s gaze remained glued to the screen. “Gold and silver! Silver and gold!” he chirped in time with Yukon Cornelius.

The tea kettle whistled in the other room and a few minutes later, Wirt joined them, balancing two plates and a mug of tea. “I don’t mind,” he told their mom as he sat down next to Greg.

Greg helped by taking his plate from him. Wirt knew just how to make his sandwiches now! Almost better than their mom did! Crustless and cut into triangles. Greg glanced over at Wirt’s plate, pleased to see his brother’s sandwich cut the exact same way, but with the crusts on.

He smiled up at him, but Wirt wasn’t paying attention. His gaze was focused on the screen, but not really. He was only pretending to watch. Greg tapped his chin and shared a glance with Jason Funderberker. Wirt seemed troubled again. He was definitely overthinking something.

Well, as a good Secret Santa, it was up to Greg to get his brother out of this rut!

He waited until the next commercial when their mom left the room, then tapped Wirt on the shoulder. “Don’t be sad, Wirt,” he told him when he had his attention. “You just have to remember: there’s always tomorrow-”

Wirt’s eyes went wide and Greg was able to pinpoint the exact moment his brother realized just what was going on. “Oh no.”

“-for dreams to come true,” Greg continued.

“No, Greg, please, no more Rudolph songs,” he sighed, then gestured to the television. “It’s bad enough that it’s going to be on for another two weeks nonstop.”

“Believe in your dreams come what may!”

Wirt glared at him. “Never.”

Still, Greg didn’t let this stop him. “We all pretend-”

“No we don’t. Stop it. Stop!”

“-the rainbow has an end!”

Wirt threw one of the throw pillows at his face. “There are no rainbows here! You keep your rainbows!”

Greg simply laughed and pushed the pillow to the floor before getting to his feet, standing right on the couch just like he wasn’t supposed to as he pointed to Wirt. “And you’ll be there, my friend!”

“I am not your friend.” Wirt crossed his arms and looked away from him, nose turned up to the air.

Grinning, he picked up the pillow from his side of the couch and pushed it into his brother’s face. “Someday!”

He sputtered and tried to bat the pillow away. “Are you finished?” he groused, slightly muffled as he scowled at him from behind it.

Greg shrugged and took a step back to give Wirt room to breathe. He watched him cautiously, like he didn’t trust him, so he smiled as innocently as possible. If anything, that made him even more suspicious. Wirt narrowed his eyes and stared Greg down. Greg blinked first, just so Wirt could have the win, and beamed when he sighed and relaxed against the back of the couch.

“Good.”

“There’s always tomorrow!” Greg leapt onto Wirt’s lap, knocking the air out of him as he sang the rest of the song loudly.

“Mom!” Wirt hollered as Greg pushed him so they went sprawling off the couch onto the floor.

“For dreams to come true!” Greg half-laughed, half-sang as he flopped all over Wirt very similarly to a floppy fish and just as boneless.

“Mom! Help!”

They didn’t end up going shopping that day, but it had been worth it.

-0-

Over the next few days, Greg and Wirt accompanied their mom on several shopping excursions, both of them seeking the perfect presents to be their Secret Santa gifts. So far they hadn’t had much luck. Most of the things Greg saw on their outings just weren’t special enough. They were things that he’d get Wirt on regular days as regular gifts. A Secret Santa gift had to be ten times better.

Wirt wasn’t having much luck with finding a gift either, and it was really taking its toll on him. Greg could tell Wirt wasn’t sleeping very well, though that was partly because of finals, but he knew it was more than that. Whoever he was going to be Secret Santa for was obviously very important to him, probably as important as Greg felt being Wirt’s Secret Santa was. He wanted to help him, but his brother wouldn’t tell him who it was, so he had no idea where to even start.

In the middle of the week, they decided to go check the small shops downtown for things since Wirt’s hardest finals were done with and he didn’t have to study so hard for the next ones. Greg and Jason Funderberker danced in a circle in Wirt’s bedroom while they waited for him to get ready. He always took a while because he spent so much time fussing over Greg’s outerwear now instead of putting his own on. Greg had his shirt, his sweater, his puffy coat, his scarf, mittens, hat, and his thickest pair of pants, but he didn’t complain. It was easier just to listen to Wirt and it helped him to worry just a bit less.

His older brother grabbed his coat from where it was hanging on his chair and pulled it on. A little piece of paper fluttered from Wirt’s coat pocket. Greg stopped dancing and watched it fall to the floor, then gasped. It was the name he picked! Who he was Secret Santa for!

Greg snatched it up and lifted it to his eyes so he could read it aloud, “Sara.” He gasped again, beaming when Wirt spun around to look at him questioningly. “You get to be Sara’s Secret Santa? That’s great, Wirt!”

Wirt turned red all the way up to his ears. “How did you-?” He spied the paper in Greg’s hand. “Greg! Give me that!” He tore it from his grasp, protective as he clutched it to his chest. “You’re not supposed to know! You- you broke the second rule!”

Greg shrugged. “Jason Funderberker said they were more like guidelines anyway.”

“Well, Jason Funderberker doesn’t know everything! Not you, Jason Funderberker,” he told their frog, then went back to glaring at Greg. “Don’t tell anyone. Especially not Sara.”

“I won’t, I promise!” Greg crossed his heart. “Oh boy, this is great! You can get a really nice Secret Santa present for Sara to show how much you love her!”

“Greg!” Wirt blushed again. “Don’t- don’t just say things like that!”

“What? Love?”

“Yes! You can’t go around saying things like love whenever you want.”

“How come?” Greg tilted his head. “Mom and Dad say they love us all the time.”

“That’s different. It’s different when parents say it,” Wirt explained.

“Well, I love you.”

Wirt must not have expected him to say that because he opened his mouth to reply with something snappy, but ended up closing it and just looked at him for a long moment. “Yeah, well… that’s- that’s different, too, Greg.”

“Oh.” Greg’s brow furrowed. Wow. Love was a lot more complicated than he thought. “Okay. But you at least like Sara, right?”

Wirt scratched at his head. “I- okay. Yeah. Yes, I like her and I want the gift to be special, I just- I have no idea what to get her! None! I _think_ I have all these good ideas and I realize that they’re actually really terrible!”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re not all terrible,” Greg reassured him. “You’re chock full of good ideas, Wirt!”

“No, I’m pretty sure they’re all terrible,” he sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed heavily. “I was looking forward to this, you know? When I first realized I had Sara’s name, I thought, ‘yes! This is perfect!’ But now… now I- I don’t know what to do.”

Wirt buried his face in his hands, hunching over his knees. Greg placed his hands on his hips, brow creasing as he tried to think up some way to help his brother. He deserved to have a great Christmas, the best Secret Santa, and get Sara the perfect present. Greg’s eyes lit up. That was it! He’d be the best Secret Santa for Wirt by helping Wirt be the best Secret Santa for Sara!

“Don’t worry, Wirt!” Greg proclaimed, grabbing Wirt by the sides of his head and forced him to look up at him. “I’ve got the perfect plan!”

-0-

While the mall was in the next town over, there were a bunch of small shops downtown that were more Wirt’s style. Thrift and antique stores and things that were really old. If Wirt was going to find a present for Sara that represented his feelings for her – and if Greg was going to find something Wirt liked – then it would definitely be in town and not at the mall.

Plus, they could easily walk to the shops in town, they needed their mom to drive them if they wanted to go further away.

Wirt hesitantly shuffled through the store, frowning at every single thing they came across. “I don’t know, Greg. I don’t think any of this fits with Sara’s tastes.” He held up an old sweater with big puffy pompoms sewn onto it and made a face, hanging it back up on the rack.

“Yeah, but it’s very you,” Greg pointed out. “And you should give her something that only you could give her, right?”

Wirt shrugged. “I guess you have a point.”

Still, he didn’t seem too convinced. Wirt quietly toyed with an old-looking nutcracker ornament, not because he was interested in it, but because it was there. Greg tapped his chin, glancing about the thrift store for any ideas. There was a lot of stuff, but it was almost like they had too many options. Greg didn’t even know where to start!

Wirt didn’t either it seemed as he sighed heavily. “How am I supposed to compete with Jason Funderberker. He got her earrings and a bracelet last year. I just gave her some of the cookies Mom let me decorate. I didn’t even bake them.”

Even if Jason Funderberker was dating Taylor now and Sara obviously liked Wirt more than she liked Jason, Wirt still got all weird and nervous whenever he talked about him or compared himself to him. Greg crossed his arms and tilted his head thoughtfully.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d rather get cookies than earrings or a bracelet,” he piped up and Wirt gave him a look, one of those ‘you’re not helping’ looks. “What? I would! And I don’t think Sara even likes jewelry that much. I’ve never seen her wear any, but I have seen her eat cookies! Oh!”

Greg ran off. An idea had sparked and he didn’t want to lose it! He knew his brother was following him as he weaved through the aisles, scanning them all as quickly as possible before his gaze fell on just what he was looking for.

“Aha!” Greg grabbed hold of a wicker basket, the kind meant for picnics in the park, and held it up for Wirt to see. “Get her a picnic! You should make your present into a date! You can give her a picnic basket filled with yummy food and make your own date tickets or something so that the two of you can go on a winter wonderland picnic!”

Wirt blinked, caught off guard by Greg’s obvious brilliance. He didn’t know why it surprised him so much and so often, he should be used to it by now. Clearly they both inherited the genes for good ideas.

“That’s… that actually might…” Wirt’s brow furrowed as he thought about it, glancing around the aisle for other ideas. “Yeah. Yeah! Greg, that’s a great idea!”

“I know!” Greg puffed out his chest, holding onto the basket while Wirt picked up a set of old plates and cups to inspect.

“I mean, it’s a little cold for a proper picnic, but we could figure something out. I know she likes ice skating, maybe we could do that, too. There’s a rink set up in the park. We could spend the day there.” Wirt was actually smiling as he envisioned this.

Greg mentally applauded himself. “Yeah!”

“Look around for a picnic blanket, Greg,” Wirt instructed. “Something thick so it doesn’t matter if snow gets on it. I’m going to see what else they have that might work for this.”

“Aye aye, captain!” Greg saluted before they separated. “I’ll do my best!”

He skipped down the aisles one by one, picnic basket swinging from his arm as he searched for the blankets, when something caught his eye and he skid to a stop. Making a soft beeping noise under his breath, he backed up until he was face to face with the item that captured his attention from his picnic surprise mission. It was a snow globe, the prettiest snow globe he’d ever seen. The base was made to look like a tree trunk, the glass part nestled in the branches growing up around it. Inside was a brilliant, intricately carved bluebird. Greg immediately thought of Beatrice as he picked it up with tenderness.

There was a crank on the bottom, so Greg turned it upside down and twisted it. “You are my Sunshine” trickled out in a sweet, music box melody. Beaming, Greg hummed along with it, watching as the snow flurries inside the globe fluttered about the bluebird. It was perfect. Oh, Wirt would love it! Greg just knew it. As the song ended, he checked the price pasted to the bottom of it. Twenty dollars exactly. It was destiny.

“Greg?” Wirt called from several aisles over.

Gasping, Greg glanced around hurriedly, then stuffed the snow globe under a patchwork tablecloth. When his brother came around the corner, Greg smiled and waved. Wirt arched an eyebrow, but other than that, he didn’t seem the least bit suspicious.

“What’ve you been doing? I called your name like four times,” he told him, then noticed the aisle he was in. “Did you find a picnic blanket?”

“Not yet,” Greg answered, still smiling and ignoring the fact that there were a ton of blankets and tablecloths behind him.

“Hm.” Wirt scanned the aisle briefly, then shrugged and accepted his reply. “Okay, then. I don’t think we’re going to find the rest of what we need here. I’m sure we have something that will work for a blanket at home. Come on. Let’s go to the grocery store before it gets too late.”

“Sounds like a plan, oh captain, my captain!” Greg nodded, pleased when Wirt smiled again. He was doing a great job at this Secret Santa thing! “I’m right behind you!”

He waited until Wirt turned around and left the aisle before throwing the blanket off the snow globe and dashing out the other way. He peeked around the corner. Luckily Wirt was distracted by an old typewriter near the front, so Greg crept over to the cashier without being spotted.

“Psst!” he hissed to the older woman standing behind it. Once he had her attention, he pushed the snow globe onto the counter. “I want to buy this for my brother for Secret Santa, but he’s here with me right now and I can’t let him see it. Can you hold it for me until I can come back with my mom and get it? It’s really important.”

She examined the snow globe carefully, then smiled in the same way Mrs. Daniels and her old people friends did. “Well, isn’t that just the cutest thing. Sure thing, pumpkin. I’ll hold onto it until tomorrow, will that work for you?”

Greg nodded. “Thanks! Oh! He’s coming this way! Hide it!”

She placed the snow globe somewhere behind the counter as Greg set the picnic basket on top to replace it. It looked just like Greg had only come over here to ring up the basket and nothing else. He couldn’t stop grinning to himself and his sneakiness as Wirt paid for part one of his plan for Sara. So far, so good.

As they left the thrift shop, Greg sent a wink at the lady over his shoulder and a thumbs up, which she returned with a soft laugh. Yep. Definitely so far, so good.

Walking down the sidewalk to the grocery store, they passed by the town hall and the big Christmas display they had up. The brothers paused to take a look at it, Greg’s eyes rounding with wonder. “Santa’s Workshop” was painted in red and green on a big banner that stretched between two candy cane posts, marking the entrance to what could only be described as a winter wonderland. Christmas music played from the speakers and a big Christmas tree sat right in the middle. There were two little portable houses set up, one was collecting gifts to be donated and one was set up with a bunch of picnic tables where kids gathered to do Christmas crafts. Beyond that was a line of parents and children waiting to approach a big, red sleigh where Santa sat, ho ho hoing merrily while his elves snapped pictures.

Greg hadn’t sat on Santa’s lap this year yet. He was still drafting his letter to Santa, but he always liked to make sure he did both just in case his letter got lost, or in case Santa needed a written reminder of what to get him like his dad did whenever Mom sent him grocery shopping. He felt Wirt’s eyes on him and glanced up. His big brother was wearing one of his fonder smiles.

“You want to talk to Santa?” he asked him.

Greg nodded. “But we can do it later. Right now we’re on a Secret Santa mission.”

“We’ve got time. Besides, I bet Mom would love to use the picture when she sends out the Christmas cards.” Wirt headed over past the candy canes to get in line. “Come on, Greg.”

Greg happily followed along. Oh, but what was he going to ask for this year? He’d been so excited with the whole Secret Santa thing, he hadn’t really thought about it. Well, at least they had some time while standing in line for him to run through his list. Becoming a magical tiger was definitely still on the list, as was his superpower idea. Oh, and a robot dinosaur. He really wanted a robot dinosaur for Christmas. That seemed like a good list to start with.

“Ho ho ho!” Santa called out when it was Greg’s turn.

He ran over and hopped onto his lap with a huge grin. “Hi, Santa! Merry Christmas!”

“A merry Christmas to you, too,” Santa replied. His beard was too thick for Greg to be able to see if he was smiling under it, but he had a feeling he was. He sounded like he was smiling. “Have you been good this year?”

“ _I_ think so,” he told him matter-of-factly. “I cleaned my room every time my mom asked me to.”

Santa chuckled. “Well, that does sound good! What would you like for Christmas then? Anything in particular Santa can get for you?”

“I would really, really like to be a magical tiger,” he replied with a serious nod. “Or have any superpower of your choice, though I think I kinda want to be able to fly. Or a robot dinosaur. Whatever’s easier for you, I’m not picky.” Greg shrugged.

“That’s quite an impressive list,” Santa told him.

“Thanks!” Greg grinned. “Oh! What’s your favorite kind of cookie? Mom makes sugar cookies and gingerbread, but I know some people don’t like gingerbread all that much. I know it’s a Christmas cookie and that you probably like it, but I want to make sure.”

“Gingerbread is just fine with me. Now, how about we smile for Jingle the elf over there.” Santa pointed to the camera.

Greg nodded. “Okay, just let me get my brother first. Wirt! Come on, we’re gonna take the picture!” He waved his big brother over.

Wirt blushed and hesitated. “I think I’m okay right here, Greg.”

“Aw, come on. Mom probably wants a picture of you to send, too, and this way we’re in it together!”

Wirt’s shoulders sagged and he shuffled over reluctantly. He stood on the other side of Santa’s sleigh, trying to lean on it in a cool, casual way, but he looked pretty awkward. Greg giggled until his big brother scowled at him, then clapped his mittened hands over his mouth to hide his smile. Wirt shook his head, but relaxed enough that he didn’t look so weird standing next to the sleigh.

“Alright, on the count of three, say ‘merry!’” Jingle the elf told them, then snapped the picture.

“Hm. It’s not half bad,” Wirt mused as they looked at the digital copies.

“We look great!” Greg whooped. “Even you, Wirt!”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Greg.”

They made the joint decision to buy several of the wallet-sized pictures for their mom, then set off for the grocery store once again. “So, you really want a robot dinosaur for Christmas? Do they even make robot dinosaurs?”

It was Greg’s turn to roll his eyes. “It’s _Santa_ , Wirt. He can make anything he wants!”

“Oh, right. Forgot about that part.”

Greg shook his head. “We really need to catch up on your Christmas specials this year, Wirt. That’s basic Kris Kringle knowledge. I mean, it’s the whole story of ‘Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town.’” His eyes lit up and he started walking in a very stilted manner. “Put one foot in front of the other,” he sang. “And soon you’ll be walking ‘cross the floo-oo-oor!”

Wirt snorted, but watched Greg’s legs to match the march he started and they both sang. “Put one foot in front of the other, and soon you’ll be walking out the door!”

They laughed and Greg’s heart warmed as he was reminded of their time on the frog ferry in The Unknown where they danced and sang to Adelaide Parade. He linked arms with Wirt, practically glowing when his brother let him.

“I know my Christmas specials just fine, Greg,” Wirt replied when he got his breath back.

“Just checking,” he told him.

-0-

His mom hadn’t been able to take him to the store the next day, but his dad did and even let him handle everything all by himself. He didn’t even peek at the present! His dad understood the importance of secrets, especially when it came to Secret Santa secrets.

With tax, the snow globe was a little more than twenty dollars, but Greg managed to scrounge up just enough quarters from his pockets to make up the difference. It meant he wouldn’t get to play any arcade games the next time they went out for pizza, but it was worth it.

“Would you like me to wrap it up for you?” the woman asked. “No extra charge.”

“Okay!”

Greg didn’t really know how to wrap a present anyway, so if this lady could do it and make it look nice, then it was probably better to let her do it. Besides, he figured Wirt would probably be able to tell it was him if he wrapped it and that would ruin the whole point of being secret.

After the thrift shop, his dad needed to stop by the music store where he gave lessons sometimes to pick something up, so Greg and Jason Funderberker waited outside for him. They started to make a snowman outside of the music store, but were both distracted when they heard some familiar voices. Greg grinned as he spied Sara, Isabelle, and Trevor walking towards him with bags in hand.

“Hey, Greg,” Sara called out, waving to him as he ran over to meet them. “What’s up?”

“Hi, guys! I’m just waiting for my dad. We’re running errands today. Secret Santa errands,” he cupped his hands around his mouth to whisper to them, then paused to think about it. “Well, I am at least. I think Dad’s just running regular errands.”

“Cool. Is Wirt here, too?” she asked.

“Nope! He’s at home putting the finishing touches on his Secret Santa, too!” he told them, then lit up with the most perfect idea ever.

Wirt had been struggling to plan a picnic lunch that would have Sara’s favorite foods and drinks that were possible to pack for a picnic. He was too nervous to ask her himself, fearing that it would give him away, but Greg could ask her for him! He could do some Secret Santa Secret Snooping!

“Hey, Sara, if you were to ever go on a picnic, what would be your perfect picnic lunch?” he asked her.

She smiled and took his question in stride. “A perfect picnic, huh? Well, it would have to have lemonade and watermelon. Those are perfect for picnics, don’t you think?”

Greg did think so, but he was pretty sure lemonade and watermelon made more sense for a summer picnic than a winter one. “What about a winter picnic?” he pressed.

“A winter picnic?” She blinked, then a slow smirk stretched across her face. “Greg, what are you up to?”

He clasped his hands behind his back. Uh oh. “Nothing. Just asking questions.”

“Mmhm. So you wouldn’t be trying to get information for your Secret Santa gift from me, would you?”

“Nope!”

“Are you sure?” she teased, grinning. “Because that would _almost_ be like cheating.”

Greg shook his head, appearing scandalized. “No way! I’m not asking for me, I’m asking for Wirt!” He gasped the second his brother’s name flew out of his mouth, his hands clamping over it belatedly as he stared up at the three teenagers with wide eyes.

Sara grinned. “I knew it!”

Trevor rolled his eyes as he got out his cell phone. “Seriously? Can nobody keep a secret around here? Man, come on, Wirt, you don’t tell little kids anything if you want to keep it a secret. No offense, Greg.”

“I’m sorry! He didn’t mean to tell me, I found out on accident!” Greg blurted. “Did I ruin Secret Santa?”

Sara stooped down to be at his level. “No way, Greg. Things like this usually happen. Someone always spills the beans at some point.”

“Gee, I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that we always hold our Secret Santa meeting at ‘Spill the Beans,’” Trevor groused.

Isabelle nudged him. “Don’t be such a baby about it, Trev.”

“I made the rules for a reason.”

“No one ever follows your rules,” she reminded him.

“Besides, like Greg said, it was an accident,” Sara told him. “It’s okay, Greg. I’m glad I know. I’m really looking forward to what he’s planning. So it’s a picnic?”

Greg frowned and took a step back. “I’m not saying anything else!” He zipped his lips, then mimed turning a lock with an invisible key before tossing said invisible key over his shoulder.

Sara chuckled. “Okay. I won’t bug you about it anymore. Oh. I think your dad’s ready to go.” She pointed over his shoulder towards his dad’s car. “Say hi to Wirt for me, okay? I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye, Sara. Bye, Trevor and Isabelle,” he told them before grabbing Jason Funderberker and running back to his dad’s side.

Oh, he felt terrible for telling Sara that Wirt was her Secret Santa. It completely ruined the surprise! Well, not that Wirt knew he ruined it. Maybe she would pretend to be surprised and Wirt would never know that she’d known, or at least not until later. The thought appeased Greg for the time being. It would still be a great Secret Santa and Christmas.

At least, that’s what he thought up until they got home.

Wirt was waiting for him by the front door and he did not look happy. Nope. Pretty much the exact opposite of happy. Greg was careful to keep his present out of Wirt’s sight, holding it behind his back as he and his dad walked in.

“Hey, kiddo,” his dad greeted as he shucked off his coat. “What’s going on?”

“I need to talk to Greg,” he replied, his glare not leaving Greg once. “Alone.”

“Ah. Alright. I’ll be in the office, then, if either of you need me.” Greg almost didn’t want his dad to go, but he had a feeling that whatever Wirt wanted to talk about was probably better to get out in the open as quickly as possible.

When the office door closed, Wirt took that as his cue to lash out. “What did you do, Greg? I let you out of my sight for five minutes and you blab my secrets to the whole world?” he exploded. “I told you not to tell anyone! You promised!”

Greg’s face fell. Oh no, so he _had_ found out. “I didn’t mean to! It just sort of happened.”

“How? Why were you even talking about me and my present for Sara in the first place?” he demanded to know.

“I was trying to get information for you, about Sara’s favorite picnic snacks and she figured it out, I guess.” Greg’s chest felt tight as he watched humiliation and misery and outright anger wage war on his brother’s face. “I’m so sorry, Wirt.”

“I just- how could you do this, Greg? You of all people knew how important this was to me! To get this one thing right! It’s Secret Santa! The only thing I had to do was keep it a secret, that was the one requirement, and I even managed to mess that up!” Wirt smacked himself in the face with both hands, digging his fingers into his hair.

Greg shook his head. “No you didn’t, Wirt! It was my fault, I messed up and I’m really sorry. How did you find out?”

“Trevor texted me,” he mumbled. “Said, ‘So, picnic in the park for Sara? Pretty classy, too bad it’s not a secret anymore, why’d you go and tell your brother? You know little siblings aren’t good for stuff like this.’ Here, read it yourself.” Wirt fished his phone out of his pocket and tossed it to him.

He just managed to catch it with one hand, the other still hiding his wrapped up snow globe, and Greg’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen. “I never said it would be in the park though.”

“That’s not the point, Greg,” Wirt groaned.

“I’m sorry.” He looked up from the phone to watch Wirt pace. “If it makes you feel any better, she really liked the idea of your present.”

“No, Greg, that does not make me feel better. I bet they’re all laughing about it. Wirt can’t keep a secret. Not even from his nosy little brother.” Wirt mussed up his own hair. “And a picnic. In the middle of winter. What was I thinking? It’s a terrible idea.”

“No it’s not! And I just told you, I think she liked it. Come on, let’s go to her house and you guys can talk about it and-” Greg reached out for Wirt’s hand, ready to drag him back outside, but Wirt held both his hands of his reach.

“No. No, Greg, I can’t- I can’t face her. Not yet. I need to- I need a minute. Or ten. Or a year.” Wirt disappeared down the hall and into his room, shutting the door behind him.

He didn’t even take his cell phone back. Jason Funderberker croaked softly and Greg sighed. Oh, he really messed up. There had to be something he could do to fix it. Wirt and Sara deserved to have a great Secret Santa together.

“But what can I do?” he asked Jason Funderberker. “Wirt doesn’t even believe me when I say Sara’s not mad and looking forward to her present.” Greg glanced at the cell phone, an idea popping into his head. “But he’d believe it if Sara told him in person. And if he won’t go to Sara, then we’ll just have to bring Sara to him.”

It took a little while to figure out how the buttons on Wirt’s flip phone worked, but soon Greg had a message drafted to Sara from Wirt asking her to come over. Greg stared at the phone until she texted back, saying, ‘sure. be right over.’ Perfect.

But just to make sure things went well, Greg was going to have to set the mood. He hid his Secret Santa gift to Wirt behind the lamp on one of the end tables in the living room and covered it with his coat, then moved onto the next part of his plan. His parents had some fake mistletoe in with the Christmas decorations, so Greg got it out, but quickly found out that he couldn’t attach it to the ceiling. He was too short.

He tied it to a stick instead, figuring he could hide behind the couch and hold it over Wirt and Sara’s heads. Mistletoe was sure to bring them together. He also got some cookies and glasses of eggnog ready, because romance needed snacks. And candles! Greg found some in the dining room and brought them out. He wasn’t supposed to use the matches or lighter without supervision though, so he’d wait until Sara and Wirt were in the living room before lighting them. It would still add to the ambiance.

When the doorbell rang, Greg hid. His dad came out to answer it, unfortunately, but that was a minor thing. He greeted Sara cheerfully, then called for Wirt and invited her in.

“Wirt! It’s for you!”

Greg and Jason Funderberker stayed quiet as they listened to Wirt come out. He made a curious sound, then squeaked. Good, he hadn’t been expecting it.

“Sara?”

“Hey, Wirt,” she replied, then sounded a little confused. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“I- I didn’t know you were coming over,” he explained.

“What? But you texted me.”

“I-I didn’t. I don’t even have my phone on me- _Greg_.”

He hunched up into an even smaller ball, his hands clasped over his mouth, hoping Wirt wouldn’t start looking for him with Sara here and everything. “Greg?” He heard her question.

“I gave him my phone earlier,” Wirt grumbled. “Then forgot to take it back.”

“That’s pretty risky.” She sounded amused, so at least she wasn’t mad about what happened.

Wirt, however, still sounded pretty mad. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t really thinking about that at the time.”

“What were you thinking about?” she asked, catching onto his mood.

Wirt sighed. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Greg could imagine his arms crossing over his chest. He listened as Wirt walked over to the couch and sat down, Sara following suit. Perfect. Greg fixed the stick with the mistletoe so that it dangled right above their heads, then crawled out from behind the couch with Jason Funderberker so he could grab the matches to light the candles.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. Did something happen?” Greg could see Sara now as she tilted her head in concern.

Wirt groaned. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I know you do. Trevor told me.”

“Oh. Oh, Wirt, it’s not a-” Sara was cut off when the stick with the mistletoe slipped and bonked her on the head. “What? Mistletoe?”

“ _Mistletoe_?” Wirt repeated, scrambling to the other side of the couch right as Sara moved her arm so her elbow bumped into Greg’s match.

She and Greg gasped at the same time as her sweater caught the flame. “Oops.” Greg dropped the match, still lit, then blew it out.

“Sara!” Wirt hurried over while she jumped up to keep the small fire from eating through the fabric or spreading further, but the both of them collided and knocked right into the end table.

It fell over, the lamp, the Secret Santa present, and the jacket all toppling to the floor with a loud crash. All three of them plus the frog jumped, Sara’s elbow still on fire while Wirt searched for something to smother it with. Greg ran into the kitchen and grabbed both glasses of eggnog, then darted back out.

“I’ve got it!” Greg announced, pouring the eggnog over Sara, dousing the flame, but also ruining her navy blue sweater in the process.

Well, technically it was already ruined since there was a big, black mark on the elbow from the fire. Sara held out her arms to make sure the fire really had been put out while Wirt had both hands over his mouth, wide-eyed and trembling. The lamp lay broken on the floor, the present crushed beneath the end table. Greg’s eyes went wide with horror. Well, that hadn’t gone quite as planned. Jason Funderberker croaked, catching the attention of the two teens so they looked at Greg and the frog.

“ _Greg_ ,” Wirt hissed, uncovering his mouth to ball his hands up into fists.

“Um.” He fidgeted and toyed with the hem of his own sweater. “Merry Christmas?”

“Are you kids okay?” Greg’s dad called out.

“We’re fine!” Sara answered for them, then, a little more softly, added, “Your lamp might not be, but we are. We’re fine. It’s okay, Wirt.”

She placed her hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away from her touch. “No, it’s not. You were on fire, Sara! Oh gosh, what if we hadn’t been able to put it out? What if it burned you? Did it burn you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “It was just an accident. No harm done.” She glanced down at her sodden, eggnog-soaked, burnt smelling clothes. “Though I think I should go home and change.”

“I’m so sorry, Sara.” Wirt looked twice as miserable now than he did before.

She tried to smile for him, but she was still a little shaken up herself, and Greg didn’t blame her. She had been on fire after all. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. Accidents happen. I just- I really think I should change, so I’m going to head home real quick, but I’ll see you later? Okay?”

Wirt covered his face with his hands, but he nodded. Sara hesitated, but reached out and gave him a pat on the shoulder that he didn’t shy away from this time. Then she flashed a small smile at Greg and gave him a pat on the head, too.

“It’s okay,” she whispered to him, then grabbed her jacket on her way to the door.

After she closed the front door behind her, Wirt and Greg stood in the middle of the room in silence. Slowly, Greg scanned the damage. He righted the end table, gazing sadly at the crushed present in its wake. Maybe… maybe the snow globe was okay? Oh, he really hoped so, since he just seemed to keep making things worse and worse for Wirt’s Secret Santa experience.

Greg knelt down to pick up the pieces of the lamp, but Wirt slapped his hand away and did it himself. “Don’t touch it, it’s sharp!” he snapped.

He nodded and backed away, letting Wirt take care of the mess. His brother didn’t say anything else the entire time he cleaned up the lamp, which was a lot scarier than him yelling. Greg could handle Wirt’s babbling and yelling and complaining. He didn’t know how to handle him when he didn’t say anything, not when he was mad.

Wirt blew out a harsh breath through his nose when he finished, then got up and stormed into the kitchen. Greg exchanged a glance with Jason Funderberker, but their frog didn’t have any more answers than he did, so he did what he felt he had to do and followed his brother. Wirt was tossing the broken pieces of the lamp into the garbage. Greg hovered in the doorway, watching his back until he turned around to face him.

“Want to explain what all of that was?” Wirt asked.

Greg pursed his lips. “I was trying to help.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Wirt face-palmed himself, his shoulders hunched up and tight. “But I didn’t ask for your help, Greg. I didn’t want your help! Your help is what caused this whole mess in the first place!”

“I wanted to fix it,” he explained.

“Well, you didn’t. You just made everything worse. I can’t believe you. I can’t- why were you even playing with matches in the first place? You know you’re not allowed to! You could’ve really hurt somebody! I mean, you set Sara on fire, Greg!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“You haven’t been doing a lot of things on purpose lately, but it doesn’t change the fact that you still did them! Just- just stop trying to help! Stop butting into my business, stop trying to do things for me! I don’t need your help, I just need you to leave me alone! Just stay away from me until Christmas is over! Then maybe nothing else will go wrong!” With that, Wirt brushed past him, heading straight for his room to slam his bedroom door shut.

He was right. Greg frowned, disappointed with himself completely. Wirt was right, everything he tried to do to make it their best Christmas ever, their best Secret Santa ever, had just blown up in his face. He failed at Secret Santa, he couldn’t even keep it a secret.

Greg shuffled out of the kitchen back to where his present was. He unwrapped it carefully to check on it. The wrapping paper was soaked, the globe had cracked into several large pieces and many more smaller pieces. The base was chipped, the bluebird was snapped in two. Greg’s heart ached. Oh, it was ruined.

He twisted the crank at the bottom of the snow globe, but the music stuttered and the notes didn’t sound much like “You are my Sunshine” anymore. Greg bowed his head. Not only had he wrecked Wirt’s present to Sara, but he wrecked his own to Wirt. Now Wirt didn’t have a present to give or a present to get at all.

“Merry Christmas,” Greg sniffled, sitting cross-legged on the floor, cradling the snow globe’s remains in his lap.

_Ribbit._ Jason Funderberker hopped over to him and nosed his side. Greg pushed him away, but the frog just came back. He glanced at him, blinking at the Santa hat that had somehow ended up on the frog’s head.

Santa hat. Santa Claus.

Greg’s eyes widened, his misery fleeting as hope sparked in his chest. “That’s it!” he exclaimed, grinning at their frog. “Jason Funderberker, you’re a genius! Santa can help! Santa can make whatever presents he wants, so of course he can fix them, too!”

Careful to keep all of the pieces of the snow globe in his hands, he bundled them up in his hat, then raced to collect his coat, scarf, and mittens. There wasn’t much time. The sun was already going down and Greg wasn’t allowed outside after dark. But this was important Christmas business.

Greg hesitated outside of Wirt’s bedroom door before he left, debating on whether or not he should tell him he was going outside, but he had told him to stay away from him…

“Come on, Jason Funderberker. We can still fix Christmas for Wirt,” he told their frog, then opened the front door and set off.

-0-

It was dark by the time Greg and Jason Funderberker got to Santa’s Workshop. The lights strung from the streetlights were all lit up in reds and greens, reflecting off the snow-covered sidewalk. Panting, Greg darted up to where the line was roped off and ducked underneath it, ignoring the CLOSED sign hanging from the red velvet rope dangling between the candy cane posts.

“Santa?” Greg called out, scanning the sleigh for any sign of the jolly man.

His bag of toys was still stuffed in the back, but the North Pole display was dark and the music that had been piped in through the speakers during the day was silent now, and not in the Silent Night sort of way. Greg glanced around for the elves, but they were missing as well. A sign posted on one of the candy striped poles said, “Hours” and listed various times. Greg squinted at it, his face falling as he managed to read the most important part of the sign.

_Weekdays open from 12pm to 5pm._

A big, frosted clock hung over Santa’s sleigh and Greg knew enough about telling time to see that the little hand was well past the number five. “No,” he murmured, eyes wide. “No! Santa? Santa, please come back! I need your help! I want to change what I want for Christmas!”

Still cradling the pieces of the snow globe in his hat, Greg ran from one end of Santa’s Workshop to the other, calling for him. But Santa didn’t come. Only a few snowflakes fell down from the sky to join Greg on the ground.

“Santa Claus?” he asked the dark clouds.

Not even a jingle bell answered him.

Greg’s little spark of hope faded. Santa wasn’t here. He trudged through the snow to the sleigh. Sadly, Greg slid into the seat, knees drawn up to his chest as he set the pieces of the snow globe down beside him. Jason Funderberker croaked, then jumped up to join him. Greg sniffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“I’ll just wait then,” he told the frog. “Santa has to come back for his sleigh before Christmas, so I’ll wait for him and then he can use his Christmas magic to fix Wirt’s present.”

Jason Funderberker made a noise of agreement as he huddled close to Greg for warmth. Greg pulled off his mittens, then tucked Jason’s cold, froggy hands into them. With his teeth, he tugged the sleeve of his jacket over his hands, balling the ends up to keep out the cold.

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful,” he started to sing. “But the fire’s so delightful. And since we’ve no place to go. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. It doesn’t show signs of stopping, but I brought some corn for popping-”

Greg’s stomach growled in response and he hugged his knees tighter. He’d left the house before dinner was ready, not that he could eat dinner knowing he ruined Wirt’s Christmas. All he wanted was for him to have a good time, and he wrecked it. Now not only did Wirt not have a Secret Santa gift to give, but he wouldn’t be getting one either because Greg was careless and let it get broken.

“The lights are turned way down low,” he kept singing, trying not to feel cold. “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. When we finally kiss goodnight, how I hate going out in the storm, but as long as you hold me tight, all the way home I’ll be warm…”

“Now the fire is slowly dying, and my dear, we’re still goodbyeing, but as long as you love me so, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

Greg blinked and lifted his head. Over by the red rope, Sara smiled and waved at him. He lifted his hand to wave back automatically, then remembered how he’d ruined hers and Wirt’s time together. How he set her on fire and probably ruined her Christmas, too. He buried his face against his knees, hoping she’d leave him alone.

“Hi, Greg,” she greeted, sounding a lot closer. He could hear her footfalls crunching in the snow. “Mind if I join you?”

He shrugged. The sleigh shifted a bit, her boots clunking against the plastic sleigh. To give her more room, Greg slid over a bit, nudging Wirt’s broken present out of the way. Jason Funderberker hopped into Sara’s lap and made a happy frog sound as she petted him. Greg still refused to meet her gaze, focused on her knees as he hugged his own.

“Felt like a midnight sleigh ride?” she asked.

Greg’s brow furrowed. “It’s not midnight yet.”

“Oh, you’re right. I guess not,” she chuckled. “Still, any particular reason you’re sitting out here in a sleigh at night in the cold?”

“I’m waiting for Santa,” he replied.

Sara tilted her head. “I think Santa’s gone home for the night.”

Greg sighed heavily. “Yeah, I know, but I have to change what I want for Christmas because I ruined everything, so I’m waiting for him to get back.”

Her eyes went wide, Greg finally facing her. “Ruined everything? Oh, Greg, you didn’t.”

He shook his head. “I did. I ruined Christmas.”

“I think that’s impossible. Nobody has the amount of Christmas spirit that you have, Greg,” she told him. “Why do you think you ruined it?”

“Because I wrecked yours and Wirt’s date and told you he was your Secret Santa. It was his first ever and I embarrassed him and ruined his life like I always do. Then when I was trying to fix it, I just made him even more mad and then his present got broken.” Greg hid his face in his hands. “I’m his Secret Santa and I let his present get broken. So now he doesn’t have a gift to give or a gift to get and it’s all my fault. I should’ve left him alone like he asked me to, but I just wanted to help.”

Sara’s hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sure Wirt doesn’t think you ruined Christmas,” she told him. “Things may not have gone the way either of you planned, but that doesn’t mean that it’s your fault.”

“Wirt said it was.”

“Sometimes people say things they don’t mean when they’re mad.” Sara nudged his chin up with her hand. “Haven’t you ever said something that you didn’t mean because you were upset?”

Greg chewed on his lower lip as he thought, then shook his head. “No.”

“Well, you’re lucky. It happens to the best of us,” Sara chuckled.

“I forgot that Wirt used to think I ruined his life,” Greg told her. “What if he forgot that he thought that, too, and is remembering now? We’ve been having so much fun and I thought he was happier.”

“He is, Greg. I don’t know what happened exactly, but he is definitely happier. And a lot of it has to do with you.” She poked him in the chest right over his heart. “And that extra big heart of yours. You kinda make it impossible for people to be unhappy around you.”

“Not for Wirt. He’s the king of being unhappy.” Greg pouted, then his eyes went wide and he looked to Sara pleadingly. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Sara made an X with her index finger over her heart. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Greg sighed with relief, then slumped back against the sleigh. “Good.”

They sat in a comfortable silence together, both watching the sky as the snowflakes continued to fall. No wonder Wirt liked Sara so much, she didn’t push or pry. She just let things happen. Greg didn’t mind sitting and waiting with her.

“Do you think Santa will come back at all tonight?” he asked her, eager for someone else’s opinion.

She hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe. So you’re waiting for him so he can fix the present you want to give Wirt?” she clarified. When Greg nodded, she tilted her head. “How broken is it?”

“Um.” Greg cast a sideways glance at the shattered remains. “It’s pretty broken.”

“Can I see it?”

He cradled the hat carefully and pulled it into his lap. Peeling back the corners, Greg tilted it a little so Sara could see the broken bluebird, glass shards, and crumbling base. It made his heart feel all broken inside just looking at it.

“It was the perfect present. I looked all over for something good I could get for Wirt and I finally found this. It was supposed to be a snow globe with bluebirds in it, and it was in the shape of a tree trunk and it played “You are my Sunshine” and it sounded really pretty, but now it’s just a pile of broken things,” he sighed.

Sara gingerly picked up the broken bluebird. “Oh, Greg. I’m sorry. I’m sure Wirt would’ve really liked it. But you know, I bet there are other things you can get him that he’d love just as much. I can help you look if you want?”

Greg shook his head. “I want to give him this. And I can’t buy him another present, I used all the money I made shoveling snow for Old Lady Daniels to buy this. I don’t have any more money. That’s why I need Santa to fix it. I need him to fix this and Wirt’s present for you. He won’t have a merry Christmas if he doesn’t get you the perfect gift either.”

“You know, I think he’d manage somehow if he didn’t find the perfect gift for me. But I know for a fact he won’t have a merry Christmas if you’re not there.” She smiled when Greg met her gaze. “I bet he’s really worried about you right now.”

Greg’s expression crumpled. “No he’s not. He told me to stay away from him. And I don’t blame him, I’d tell me to go away, too.”

“Remember what I said about people saying things they don’t mean?”

He sighed. “Okay. Well, even if he didn’t mean it, I can’t go home until I get Wirt’s present fixed. I’ll travel all the way to the real North Pole if I have to.”

“That’s pretty far, Greg. It would take you a few days to get there. You might miss Christmas,” she pointed out.

“It would be worth it.” Greg nodded with determination.

“I don’t think Wirt would think that,” Sara replied.

His brow furrowed. “Why not?”

Sara pursed her lips, eyes flicking over Greg’s shoulder for a second. “I’m not the best person to ask, Greg, but I bet Wirt could tell you why he doesn’t think that’s a good idea.”

He blinked at her, then turned to look behind him. Wirt stood beside the candy cane poles, looking both parts relieved and terrified. Greg stiffened, then ducked into the bottom of the sleigh so Wirt couldn’t see him. Well, he’d already seen him, but maybe he’d forget that he’d seen him. Maybe.

“Greg,” Sara chuckled. “He knows you’re here.”

“Maybe he’ll think I went away and go somewhere else,” he whispered to her, but he heard his brother’s footfalls getting closer. “Ain’t that just the way?”

“Do you want to talk to him?” she asked.

Greg pursed his lips as he thought about it. “Yeah, but I don’t want to get yelled at again.”

“I don’t think he’s here to yell at you.”

“You don’t know that,” he told her.

She smiled and shrugged, then slid out of the sleigh. She set Jason Funderberker down on the seat and gave him a pat, then disappeared from Greg’s line of sight. He heard her walk away, leaving him alone with his brother. He braced himself, prepared to see Wirt frowning at him or tell him to get out of the sleigh so they could go home. But none of that happened. The sleigh shifted, but not because Wirt joined him in the seat. Greg blinked. He must’ve sat down on the part in front.

He waited and listened, but Wirt didn’t say anything, so he didn’t say anything back. Besides, nothing his brother could say would make him leave without talking to Santa first. He’d made the mistake, it was up to him to fix it! Just like when they were in The Unknown and he let Wirt get too lost. It was up to him to fix it then, too.

A quiet humming broke the heavy silence and Greg perked up as words joined the melody. “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright. ‘Round yon Virgin, mother and child. Holy infant, so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace.”

As quiet and boring as “Silent Night” was, the way Wirt sang it – softly, almost not at all – was soothing as it washed over him. He listened as his brother went through all three verses, then started into “Oh Holy Night.” Quietly and oh-so slowly, Greg got up off the floor of the sleigh to sit on the seat again.

Wirt was sitting sideways, his legs hanging out the side of the sleigh as his arm rested on the part that separated the two of them. He saw him out of the corner of his eye and watched him, but didn’t stop singing. Greg watched him right back.

“There’s always tomorrow for dreams to come true,” Wirt continued without a pause, and Greg’s eyes went wide. “Believe in your dreams come what may. There’s always tomorrow with so much to do. And so little time in a day.

“We all pretend the rainbow has an end, and you’ll be there, my friend, someday.”

Greg scooted to the edge of his seat, resting his arms next to Wirt’s and pillowing his chin on them as he sang along, “There’s always tomorrow for dreams to come true. Tomorrow is not far away.”

“You hate that song,” Greg murmured.

“It’s not so bad.” Wirt smiled and Greg couldn’t help but grin back.

“Can we sing something a little more fun next?” he asked.

“We can sing whatever you want,” Wirt replied. “But I do want to talk to you first.”

Well, he couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting that. Greg nodded, then blurted out, “I’m really sorry I made you so mad, Wirt, and ruined your Christmas.”

“You didn’t ruin my Christmas. And you don’t ruin my life, Greg. I know I’ve said that before, but I promise you I don’t mean it.” Wirt shifted so he could face him better. “And I don’t want you to stay away from me. I was freaking out, like I always do, and I took it out on you. I know it was an accident, just like you telling Sara I was her Secret Santa was an accident. I guess I just got carried away, stressing out about the whole thing when I didn’t really need to.”

Greg kicked his feet back and forth. “I think I got carried away, too. I just wanted our first Secret Santas to be special.”

“I know, Greg.” Wirt brushed some of the snow out of Greg’s hair. “But we don’t need to go all out or make grand gestures in order to have a special Secret Santa. It’s special no matter what.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Because it’s our Secret Santa, with our friends and with the two of us. It’s supposed to be a fun thing to show how much we care about each other, and I took it way too seriously. It shouldn’t matter what the gift is as long as it came from the heart. It’s not a contest or a big statement or anything. It’s just… it’s supposed to be fun. And I’m sorry if I kept it from being fun for you.”

Greg shook his head. “You didn’t. It was really fun up until today.”

Wirt nodded, but he still looked like he had more to say, or more to apologize for at any rate. “I’m sorry, Greg.”

He shrugged, then gave Wirt a hug. “I forgive you,” he told him, then realized his brother was shaking a little as he hugged him back. “Wirt? It’s okay. I said I forgive you.”

“I know. That’s not-” He tightened his arms around him. “I was so scared when I realized you were gone. Please don’t run away like that ever again, okay?”

Greg patted him on the back. “I won’t. I promise. And I’ll keep this promise this time. Cross my heart.”

With a nod, Wirt continued to hold him close, like he’d disappear if he so much as let up his hold for a second. Greg frowned, then wiggled out of his grasp. Grabbing Jason Funderberker, he climbed over the front seat of the sleigh so he could sit in Wirt’s lap, giving his brother the contact he seemed to crave.

“How did you find me so fast?” Greg asked. “How’d you know I was here?” 

“Sara texted me.” 

Greg blinked. “Sara?” 

“Yeah. She came back over after she changed, just like she said she would, but by then I’d already realized you were gone, so she said she’d help me find you. Why did you come here anyway?” Wirt asked him as he wrapped his arms around Greg’s middle.

“I wanted to change what I wanted for Christmas,” he told him, relieved that he hadn’t overheard the part where he told Sara he was Wirt’s Secret Santa. “I thought Santa would be able to use his magic to fix your Secret Santa present and give you a merry Christmas.”

Wirt huffed out a laugh. “Aw, Greg. I don’t need Santa’s magic to have a merry Christmas.”

Greg tipped his head back. “So does that mean I don’t have to wait for him to come back all night?”

“That’s exactly what that means,” he confirmed.

Good, because Greg was starting to get a bit cold. He glanced at the back of the sleigh, where his hat filled with the snow globe pieces still sat. He still wished he could get it fixed, but maybe Santa’s Christmas magic would find a way. Or he could find Wirt something else. He looked up at him and smiled, pleased when he got a smile in return. Yeah, as long as he could find something that would make Wirt smile, that was all he needed.

“C’mon, Wirt. Let’s go home.”

Hand in hand, the brothers and their frog headed for home. Greg left his hat behind on the sleigh, snow globe and all. He had other hats, after all.

Swinging their joined hands together, Greg started to sing, “We’re a couple of misfits! We’re a couple of misfits!”

“Does it have to be a Rudolph song?” Wirt sighed, but Greg could tell he was faking it.

“You know you love Rudolph,” he pointed out.

Wirt snorted. “Well, I don’t love that song. It’s supposed to be ‘Fame and Fortune.’ Not whatever you’re singing.”

“‘Fame and Fortune’ doesn’t make any sense, Wirt. The misfit song does because it’s all about them being misfits the whole time!”

“Yeah? Well, it’s not the original song.”

“Yeah it is! They changed it to ‘Fame and Fortune’ at the last second and then decided to change it back ‘cause they knew it was bad.”

Wirt lifted an eyebrow. “How’d you find that out?”

“I know things,” Greg replied. “Come on, Wirt. Sing the misfit song with me!”

With another sigh, Wirt shook his head, but when Greg started up the song again, his brother sang along with a small smile. “We’re a couple of misfits, we’re a couple of misfits. What’s the matter with misfits? That’s where we fit in!”

“Take it away, Hermey!” Greg pointed to Wirt.

“Wait. Why do I have to be Hermey?”

“Face it, Wirt. Out of the two of us, you’re the one most likely to become a dentist.”

-0-

On December twenty-third, an hour or two before he and Wirt were supposed to leave for the Secret Santa party, Greg found a package addressed to him on the front porch. He never got packages. At first he thought it might’ve been a mistake, but it was clearly addressed to him.

He opened it up in his room, with only Jason Funderberker as a witness. Inside the package was a white box, and inside the white box was a brand new snow globe. The very same one he’d found in the thrift store. The bluebird sat in the center of the tree stump, looking even more beautiful and more like Beatrice than he remembered, and it played “You are my Sunshine” just like the other one did.

Greg stared at it in awe. But how? There was a note attached to it, but all it said was, “From Your Secret Santa.” He couldn’t stop smiling. He put it back in its white box, then ran to get his mom so she could help him wrap it.

Since he hadn’t had the money to buy Wirt a new present, he’d made him several ornaments, but he quickly decided that those could go along with his actual Christmas present so he could give him the snow globe instead. Wirt had decided to stick with his picnic present idea, pleased with how personalized he’d ended up making it. He’d even asked for Greg’s help for a few of the finishing touches, and he was happy to lend a hand.

When they arrived at Jason Funderberker’s everyone else was already there. They sneakily placed their presents in the pile, so no one could see what they’d walked in with. Greg caught Sara’s eye from across the room and she winked at him. He wasn’t sure why, but he smiled and winked back.

They had a gingerbread house making contest along with other holiday-themed games that included Christmas, Chanukah, and Kwanzaa elements before they even touched on the Secret Santa stuff. Greg could hardly contain himself. He’d spied the present that his name on it, and he couldn’t help but be excited for whatever was inside. Though he was curious. Had his Secret Santa also sent him the snow globe? Was it the same Secret Santa?

Finally, the teens sat down to open the presents. “We have to try and guess who got what for who,” Sara explained as they each grabbed their gift. “So nobody say anything.”

“Gee, Sara, I have no idea who your Secret Santa could be,” Isabelle teased, shooting Wirt a thumbs up to try and ease his nerves.

“I don’t care, I’m still excited,” Sara replied, bumping shoulders with Wirt so he’d smile.

Unanimously it was decided that she’d go first since everyone knew who her Secret Santa was. They still oohed over the picnic basket, stuffed with a dark blue blanket, the two old plates and cups, a thermos, microwavable soup cups, cheese slices, bread rolls, cookies, and apples. There were also the two tickets that Greg had helped Wirt make, redeemable for a winter picnic date in the park with complementary ice skating and cuddling. Greg had added the part about cuddling, much to Wirt’s embarrassment, but Sara seemed to think it was sweet. She held Wirt’s hand the entire time everyone else went through their presents.

Greg deemed it a job well-done, then hurried to grab the present for him, trying not to look too suspicious as he watched Wirt open his. He held his breath as his brother inspected the white box, glancing around the room as everyone waited to see what it was. He popped open the lid and Sara helped him take the snow globe from it carefully. Wirt’s eyes went wide, his mouth forming a little circle as everyone admired it.

Sara glanced over at Greg while Wirt cradled the snow globe, sharing a secret smile with him. Suddenly, the wink she sent his way made sense. She was the only one who knew what he’d gotten Wirt. That he was Wirt’s Secret Santa. Greg beamed at her. Sara was his Secret Santa! And she got him the one thing he wanted more than anything! To give Wirt the best Secret Santa present! He looked down at the present he had in front of him. But… then what else did she get him?

He’d have to think on that later, because “You are my Sunshine” started to play and drew Greg’s attention back to his big brother. The rest of the group was betting that Taylor was his Secret Santa, since she liked birds, but Wirt’s awe-filled gaze went straight to him. Greg fidgeted, then smiled shyly. It wasn’t often Wirt looked at him like he’d done something completely amazing.

Wirt set the snow globe down, then held his free arm out to Greg as the biggest smile he’d seen on his brother’s face in a while lit up. “Come here, best Secret Santa ever.”

Grinning, Greg bounded over and half-tackled Wirt – and Sara by default – with his hug. “How’d you figure out it was me?” he laughed.

“Oh, a little bluebird told me,” Wirt joked, squeezing him in a one-armed hug. “Thank you, Greg. I love it.”

“Good.” Greg snuggled into his side. “And you’re welcome.”

“Wirt, you seriously have the best little brother,” Taylor told him as she took a closer look at the snow globe.

“Yeah, I do. Don’t I?” Wirt ruffled his hair. “Your turn, Greg. See what you got.”

“I already got part of it,” he mused, but tore into the wrapping paper nonetheless. “Whoa!” His eyes lit up and he bounced out of Wirt’s hold in his excitement. “Cookies in the shapes of robots _and_ of dinosaurs!”

Wirt actually laughed, then looked to Sara who smiled shyly and shrugged. Greg abandoned the cookie tin and ran over to hug her next. “Thanks, Sara!”

She hugged him back, then placed a kiss on top of his head. “You’re very welcome, Greg. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!”

He shared his robot dinosaur cookies with everyone while they opened the rest of their gifts. When they were done, Greg squeezed between Wirt and Sara. His brother rolled his eyes, but Sara was more than happy to let Greg lean against her. And Greg was more than happy to let Wirt lean against him. He giggled as he felt Wirt rest his cheek on top of his head, then let the brunt of his weight fall atop him, making Greg laugh even harder and protest against being squished. He asked for Sara’s help, but she only joined in, teaming up with Wirt to squeeze him in the world’s worst hug.

It was secretly the best hug, but it wasn’t like Greg was going to tell them that and encourage this sort of thing, even if it was Christmas.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays, everyone!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this little festive treat that just wouldn't leave me alone. I have a few other holiday-inspired ideas up my sleeve, but this was the big one I wanted to get out. The others may show up sometime in January, but I might hold onto them for next year if I feel that I'll still be writing stories for these guys in a year! Who knows!
> 
> The snow globe Greg got for Wirt really does exist, though I'm sure it's not only twenty dollars. It comes up if you go to Google and look up "bluebird snow globe." It's pretty much perfect, don't you think? I'm tempted to get it myself someday!


End file.
